


After the War (What is it That You're Fighting For)

by angryhausfrau



Series: What is it That You're Fighting For [1]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 12,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24320653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryhausfrau/pseuds/angryhausfrau
Summary: Trapper John goes home. A semi-epistolary account of the last eight seasons of MASH from Trapper's point of view.
Relationships: "Trapper" John McIntyre/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, Louise McIntyre/"Trapper" John McIntyre
Series: What is it That You're Fighting For [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755769
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

When Trapper gets his travel orders, he's drunk for two days and dead sober for three. He spends the first sober day practically living in Radar's little office. Between puking his guts out, post-op rounds, and rounds of terrible army "coffee," he gives Radar a list of all the hotels, bars, and Geisha houses he and Hawkeye frequent when in Tokyo. Radar calls them all in an endless cycle, interrupted only by Frank Burns' incessant and ridiculous demands, until midnight, when Radar leaves a fourth message at Hawkeye's hotel telling him to call back right away and Trapper heads back to the Swamp for a fitful night's sleep.  


The next day, Trapper is so desperate to reach Hawkeye, he gives Radar a new list of haunts that would get him and Hawk both in trouble for just knowing about, much less frequenting, but no dice. By mid-afternoon, Trapper has accepted that Hawkeye has probably gone back to a hotel room with someone and that they won't be able to reach him in time. He can't even begrudge him that, it's not like they're exclusive - and certainly not in Tokyo - but it does sting that he won't be able to say goodbye in person. He has Radar leave one last message at Hawkeye's hotel - the front desk clerk now recognizes Radar by voice - and then tells him to get back to work before Ferret Face makes good on his threats of bodily harm, latrine duty, or demotion.  


Back at the Swamp, the still looks mighty tempting. A little liquid courage to help him get his goodbye on paper. But no, Hawk had done this - been open and vulnerable and honest - for him back when he'd thought he was going home with an ulcer. He owes Hawkeye something sincere and heartfelt. Fuck. Here goes.

_Dear Hawk,  
You know I ain't any good at words, or expressing my feelings. But I'll try. For you I'll try.  
You once told me that I let you lean on me. That I kept you from going crazy or worse. Well you done the same for me Hawk. I leant on you just as much as you leant on me and I'm forever grateful for it. You're the reason I can go back home to my kids all in one piece and I can never repay that.  
As much as it hurts to say goodbye, you're the reason I'm able to do it at all.  
And I'm gonna keep writing you once I'm stateside. And I hope you'll write me too - about anything and everything. A friendship like ours shouldn't end just cuz of a measly few thousand miles.  
I'm gonna miss the hell outta you, Hawk, but there's a piece of Korea coming home with me - and you're the biggest, brightest, best part of that piece.  
Yours,  
Trapper John_

Satisfied that his goodbye was at least somewhat coherent, and fighting the urge to throw it in the stove and watch it turn to ash, Trapper went about hiding the letter. Putting it in any of Hawkeye's possessions was out - Frank loved snap inspections. And if Ferret Face ever found this letter, the best possible outcome was him burning it out of spite before bothering to read it. And as good an egg as Radar was, he had a long history of opening other people's mail. Trapper couldn't chance that - so hiding it in the still it was.  
Hopefully Hawkeye would find it sooner than later - but just in case, Trapper planned to leave him a second goodbye via Radar. The kid was so anxious around anything sexual, particularly involving men, that it wouldn't be a _good_ goodbye but it was at least a shadow of what Trapper wanted to leave Hawkeye with.  


In the cold dawn of the compound, his duffel at his feet, wearing his Class A's for the last damn time, Trapper shook hands, kissed nurses, gave Frank Burns a final one finger salute and then the jeep roared out of the compound towards Kimpo and home.


	2. Chapter 2

Trapper needed a drink. Trapper needed about a million drinks. And that was the problem; once he started drinking he was pretty sure he'd never stop and he didn't want to meet his family sloshed out of his mind. So he made the entire flight from Soul to Tokyo _Henry is down there right down there in the blue blue waters Henry never made it home please God let me make it home_ and then from Tokyo to Honolulu to San Fransisco terrifyingly sober and griping the armrests so tightly his knuckles turned white and he had to work the circulation back into his hands when they landed. But he made it. Terra Firma. The good old U S of A. Home.

He'd been on a military transport for the first legs of the trip but once he'd gotten stateside, they stuck him on a commercial flight from San Fransisco to Boston. He feels strange and out of place with his severe brown uniform and ratty olive drab duffel. All around him are bright colors, laughter, screaming kids - it feels like a dream, like riding the tilt-a-whirl at night drunk, all the lights blurring together and the shrieks and laughter of the other amusement-park-goers melding into a single unintelligible cacophony. Trapper spends most of the nearly seven hour flight locked in the airplane bathroom with his head between his knees.

The actual airport is worse somehow. Only knowing that Louise, Cathy, and Becky are inside waiting for him keeps him moving forward. They're waiting for him at the baggage claim. So beautiful and perfect, looking at them is like staring into the sun. He has to look away or else go blind. And suddenly his kids are hugging him and his wife is there and they're in the car heading home - Louise driving thank God, because Trapper isn't even sure how he got here, can't remember leaving the airport even - and everything is going to be okay.


	3. Chapter 3

_  
Heya Hawkeye,  
It's been a few weeks now since I got home and I figured I'd make good on my promise to write you. I have no idea when you'll get this; knowing army mail I'll be lucky if it's sometime before August. It's just starting to be spring here in Boston and it's sure nice to not be in a tent.  
I'm back at Boston Mercy, where I was before the war, and that's been an adjustment. The OR doesn't even smell like rotting blood under the antiseptic and the instruments are actually sterile. I feel like I've stepped into a whole other world. I've been pulling a lot of ER shifts since I've gotten back. I always thought I'd go into pediatrics, but Korea spoiled me for anything other than trauma surgery I guess. Even still, I look at the stuff we get in here and go this is an emergency? You only got shot once.  
Speaking of people getting shot, we had a kinda funny one in this week. You know those kids who'd shoot themselves in the foot to go home? Well one of Boston PD's finest took it upon himself to continue that grand tradition right here in the states. At first I thought it was his attempt at a 4-F but it turns out it was just incompetence. He'd been cleaning his gun and discharged it right into his own foot. Truly the Frank Burns of cops.  
On the subject of good old Ferret Face, I hope he's not giving you too much trouble and that my replacement helps you carry on the grand tradition of giving him Hell.  
Hope you're well and that you'll write back. I miss being able to shoot the breeze with you.  
Your friend,  
Trapper John, Civilian  
_

The letter didn't even come close to saying everything he wanted it to, but it would hopefully make it past the army sensors without too much alteration. And it was a relief to write Hawkeye, even if it was pretty pointless nonsense. Coming home, Trapper felt like he'd been gone for far longer than a year and a half. It seemed like the world had changed, had moved on in his absence and he'd needed a sense of normalcy. Hawkeye was normal - well not really _normal_ \- but commiserating with him about incompetent officers (police or army) and ragging on Frank Burns was normal. Give him a glass of lighter fluid masquerading as gin and Trapper could almost pretend he was back in the Swamp. 

Surgery was the other thing that felt normal and Trapper had been spending longer and longer at the hospital. In addition to his shifts in the OR, he'd begun observing other, scheduled operations. It seemed like medicine had progressed a long way in such a short time and Trapper hadn't been this out of his depth since residency. It didn't help that any medical journals that managed to make it to the 4077 were hopelessly out of date. And he didn't have a lot of opportunity to practice what they preached in between bowel resections and amputations. Luckily, one of the other surgeons who'd served in Korea but who'd been stationed in Tokyo, the lucky fink, took Trapper under his wing and let him observe. He may even be scheduled for some extra shifts in a couple weeks to try out the new techniques. 

Louise wasn't too happy about all the extra shifts. Or the fact that ER shifts often ran till late. But she admitted the extra money was nice and she had kept her part time job at the library and had made friends with some other ladies so it wasn't like she was around all the time either. And anyway, Trapper made sure to spend plenty of time with his girls on his days off. Maybe he'd take Cathy and Becky to the zoo this Saturday while Louise had to work, that'd be nice. 


	4. Chapter 4

Trapper wakes up in the middle of the night, achingly erect, the ghost of Hawkeye's name on his lips, and goes to whack off in the bathroom. Again. Still it beat the nights when he was awakened by nightmares of blood and olive drab, a scream trapped in his breathless lungs. And he'd told Louise that his nocturnal bathroom jaunts were just his body getting used to coffee without saltpeter.

Maybe more sex would help. He and Louise hadn't exactly been intimate since he got back. They slept curled away from each other, the gap between their tense backs a few inches made up of a year and a half of absence. But some of the nurses bad been giving him the _look_ during surgery. Sleeping around was only supposed to be a Korea thing, but flirting was second nature to him and it wasn't his fault if they showed interest. Although they all seemed so young and naive. They hadn't lived through the blood and the bombs and the fear, hadn't felt the need to press against someone in a desperate attempt to feel something other than the specter of death. Maybe he'd just go sleep in the guest room. And write Hawkeye.

_Heya Hawk,  
You probably haven't even gotten my first letter, but I really miss being able to talk to you every day, so I'm writing again.  
Becky and Cathy are doing amazing. They've grown so much, I can't hardly believe they're my daughters. And Becky is so smart, straight A's all the way down the report card. She musta got it from Louise cuz she sure as hell didn't get it from me. Cathy I can take credit for though; she's joined the parish softball league and is a terrific first baseman. I've been to all the games and they're probably the best thing to come outta St Brigid. I'm gonna try and take her to a Sox game this summer, I think she'd like that.  
Surgery's been good. I've done a lot of observation and even performed some of the new procedures and I feel like something more than a meatball surgeon again. I'm not really the biggest fan of the hospital though. I know I'm a good cutter, and I stack up fine against the other surgeons, but everyone here is so competitive. It's not about saving patients, it's about how fancy your cutting is. ER is a little different, but not much. Some guys are practically monogramming their patients' guts. It's not that I want to be surrounded by a hospital full of Frank Burns' - if I did, I'd be at the VA - but it's strange to have so little cooperation in the OR because everyone's too busy hot-shotting around. About the only guy who's been any kind of help is the vet from Tokyo I told you about in the last letter. He's why I've gotten caught up so quickly in surgery and we even went out for drinks after work one night but I guess we didn't really have anything in common outside of work. Even the war was completely different for him. He was nice and safe and clean in Tokyo, putting the finishing touches on the kids going home and doing elective procedures for generals while I was at the front, in the mud and blood, putting kids back together from a jigsaw puzzle of internal organs. He just can't understand what that was like.  
So I guess what I'm saying is, I really hope you'll write me back. As much as I couldn't wait to get out of Korea, I feel like part of me is still back there. Every day I wonder about what crazy stunt Klinger's pulled, or how you've gotten one over Frank Burns, or what the latest supply shortage is. And the crazy thing is, I miss it. I miss the 4077. It feels real in a way Boston doesn't - like I'm dreaming and I'll wake up back in the Swamp with another load of wounded coming in. This letter to you feels more real than my wife sleeping next to me.  
Louise and I've been out a few times now, dinner and dancing. And it's like going out with a stranger. So stilted and awkward I feel like I'm at the high school prom. I don't know what to talk about other than the kids. It's almost a relief when another guy wants to cut in. I know he'll be smooth and attentive and make her smile. I've never been the jealous type, you know that, but actually wanting another man to flirt with my wife just to hear her laugh, just to see her happy, makes me wonder what the hell is wrong with me. You'd probably tell me to buy her flowers, romance her a little, but I don't know if I can. I feel like we're two different people now and I don't know if we're compatible anymore. I guess I oughta tell her some of this but thanks for letting me get it out in a letter first. I almost feel like I'm talking to you. I can't wait till you're stateside and we can talk in person.  
Your friend,  
Trapper John_

The letter is more revealing, more honest than he'd dare in the sober light of day, but the warm glow of the lamp in the guestroom makes Trapper feel safe. Like the rest of the world doesn't exist. So he seals the letter in an envelope and addresses it to Hawkeye before he loses his nerve - and then falls into a calm and restful sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

A few days later, Trapper comes home to Louise sitting at the kitchen table looking drawn and tense. It's well after midnight and she's staring blank and unseeing at a letter, the sort of dazed look that means you've reached the end of your rope but you have to continue on somehow. She looks up at him, blinking slowly, and seems to come back to herself.  
"This came for you in the mail today. From the army." She holds out an official looking letter.  
"Well they already drafted me once," jokes Trapper. "They can't do it again." This logic is not as comforting as he hoped it would be. Mostly because the army doesn't have any logic.

The letter is so much worse than a draft notice.

 _Dear Sir/Madam,  
We regret to inform you that your letter to_ **Capt. Benjamin Franklin Pierce** _cannot be delivered as addressed. The recipient has been declared deceased by the Secretary of the United States Army, Korean Command.  
My sympathy for your loss,  
Corp. Hugh Montgomery  
Secretary of the US Army, Clerk  
_

Hawkeye's dead. Hawkeye's dead and all he got was a fucking form letter. Trapper wants to yell. He wants to cry. But he feels detached from himself somehow. Like his head is a balloon floating above his body. Like there's a sheet of glass separating him from Louise, from the kitchen, from his own feelings. So he takes a shower he doesn't feel and curls up in the cool sheets of the guestroom bed.

Trapper has the next day off, which is good because he still feels floaty and detached, not fit to operate. Once the kids and Louise are out of the house, he emerges from the safety of the guestroom and writes another letter to a different Dr. Pierce. It's hard for him to gauge the pressure of the pen in this state, and he has to scrap a few drafts due to inkblots, but he finally manages a letter that is at least legible.

_Dr. Daniel Pierce,  
My name is Dr. John McIntyre, but you probably know me as Trapper John. I'm writing to you now because I just learned of Hawkeye's death. He's one of the best people I've ever known - finest kind, he'd say - and I want to be able to pay my respects. If there's going to be a memorial service or anything, I'd appreciate you letting me know. I'd like to come up to Crabapple Cove to say goodbye.  
Hawkeye talked about you all the time in Korea and it was obvious how much he loved you. I'm sorry for your loss.  
John McIntyre_

Trapper gets a telegram that afternoon asking him to come to Crabapple Cove. He calls in sick at the hospital, writes a note to Louise, and heads to the train station.

  


When Trapper gets to Crabapple Cove, Dr. Pierce is sitting at his kitchen table, head in hands. In a reflection of Louise's pose from last night, he's staring at a telegram. Hawkeye's death notice. Trapper sinks down into the chair next to him.

He and Dr. Pierce stay up till one in the morning telling stories about Hawkeye - laughing and crying and drinking the whiskey Trapper brought. He hasn't been able to touch gin since Korea. Trapper's glad he came here, glad he can feel _something_ in the wake of Hawkeye's death even if it's bittersweet and when Dr. Pierce heads up to bed, Trapper doesn't want to sleep quite yet. He's afraid he'll wake up in the same fugue state as this morning. So he heads out to the back porch for a smoke and ends up writing Hawkeye one last letter.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
This is the second goodbye I've had to leave you by letter. And this time there's no chance of us meeting up again to say everything in person. So I guess I'll say it all here.  
I love you. I didn't ever say it in person and I'm sorry for that. Even if I meant it with every touch, every kiss, I never said it and that's killing me now.  
We always said that what we had was finite, casual. That someday I'd go home to my wife and you'd go home to your dad's practice in Crabapple Cove and we'd be buddies sure but not lovers. Not partners. Well I'm back home with my family and you're never coming home. But I'll never be able to forget you. You left a mark on me that'll never wash out, not in a hundred years. We went through too much together, meant too much to each other for that to happen. So even though Korea was hell I can't regret it because it meant I knew you, loved you, even if it was just for a short time.  
I'll miss you.  
Yours,  
Trapper_

Trapper burns the letter, because he can't leave a letter like that just laying around, but it feels cathartic too. Like maybe if there is a heaven - and there has to be, because there is a hell and it's a MASH unit on the 38th parallel - the smoke and ash will carry Trapper's words to him. Let him have this one last goodbye.

The next morning, Trapper wakes up to the sound of Dr. Pierce on the phone. And Hawkeye's alive.


	6. Chapter 6

It's like there's a stranger living in my house, she'd told Jenny. He looks like my husband, he sounds like my husband, and when he's with the girls he acts like my husband. But I don't know him.

Louise thinks about that conversation when she comes home from work to an empty house. Usually, when John has a day off and the kids are at school, he'll sit around the house in a bathrobe drinking scotch and reading medical journals. It's not that she loves his use of free time, but it has become routine. It's strange that he's broken it. Then she finds the note.

_Louise,  
Dr. Pierce asked me to come up to Maine while he tries to figure out what's happened to Hawkeye. I've called the hospital already to let them know I need to take a few sick days. Not sure when I'll be back.  
Give the girls an extra goodnight kiss from me.  
John_

That was it. No dear. No love. No asking her opinion on the matter. Just the expectation that she would understand. Oh, she understands all right. She understands that despite their almost eight years of marriage, John's little detour to Korea has made her an afterthought. A lousy year and a half out of _eight years_ and suddenly she's chopped liver. His letters home had always been focused on the girls; asking for little stories about their lives, sending them funny stories about Korea, commenting on how much they'd grown. In fact, the most heart-felt letter she, Louise, had received had been the one asking if they could adopt a Korean orphan. But he'd always managed to include an I love you somewhere in the letter. Always managed to begin them with Dear Louise. Now that he's home, he can't even manage that much.

Well it's a good thing that Louise has had a year and a half to make a life that's not centered around a certain Dr. John Francis Xavier McIntyre, now isn't it. She has a job she enjoys, friends she cares about, and two lovely little girls she's made a home and a life and a family for. After all, it's not like John was around all that much during his residency either and she managed just fine. And what's John got? Work and whiskey and the ghost of Korea hanging over his shoulders, dragging him down.

Louise is afraid of what will happen if they can't work things out. But she's also afraid of what will happen if they can.

  


On the train back to Boston, Trapper does some serious thinking. He's not really one for emotional introspection but his goodbye letter to Hawkeye had been something of a revelation. As had the fact that his first reaction to hearing Hawkeye was still alive was relief that he could still tell him all of it in person. He hadn't even known he'd felt that way about everything, about _Hawkeye,_ until it was staring him in the face. It looks more and more like Korea won't just stay in Korea. And Trapper isn't sure he wants it to.

When he gets home, Louise doesn't mention the note or Hawkeye or John's spontaneous trip to Maine and he's grateful. Trapper's still feeling raw from everything that's happened, from figuring out how he feels about everything that's happened, and having her ask questions would just be too much. He loves her, he does, but he also loves Hawkeye. And Hawkeye feels more real to him thousands of miles away than Louise does standing right in front of him. So he calls the hospital to tell them he'll be in tomorrow, it was just a twenty-four hour bug, he's fine. And when the girls get home, he helps them with homework and she makes them dinner and he plays football with them in the tiny back yard and she gets them ready for bed. And when he's done some reading and had a nightcap and Louise has gone to bed, Trapper goes to bed too, in the guestroom that's slowly becoming his.


	7. Chapter 7

In the days that follow, Louise stops being around as often. She stays out after work, joins a card club, starts doing more volunteer work for the parish. She's still there for the girls, they both are, but their routine has settled so that they both spend time with the kids but not really with each other. Talk over dinner stays light and superficial. Trapper moves into the guest bedroom permanently and joins a boxing gym. It gets him outta the house, and outta the bars, and he needs to do something physical, where he doesn't need to think too hard about anything. And with things with Louise the way they are, and his feelings about Hawkeye the way _they_ are, his usual avenue of physical release just isn't very appealing. And it's not great, but it's better than sitting in strained silence on the couch next to Louise all evening.

And one day he gets a letter from Hawkeye. Sure it's addressed to _John McIntyre, Fink_ but it's a letter. From Hawkeye. He writes back right away.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
That's Dr. Fink to you! I didn't waste eight years in med school for you to slander me like this. If Frank Burns gets to be called doctor, I sure as hell do.  
Speaking of good old Ferret Face, I'm glad he's on his way out as CO. He was bad enough with the two of us - remember when he tried to get us to starch and fold our socks? - and we had him broken in already. I can't imagine training in a new guy with Frank in charge. You're gonna have to make him scared of you all over again.  
Frank's many many failings aside, I hope your new CO turns out ok. As much as I sometimes wished Henry would grow a damn spine and make a command decision every once in a while, he at least knew how to keep his nose out of other people's business, which both our business appreciated. And maybe the new CO won't be quite so oblivious, but it sounds like he's been in the game a long time and he's gotta know that a bunch of draftees aren't gonna be paragons of rule following. Besides, everyone knows Radar really runs the outfit. And Klinger's one of the most GI guys in the unit, outside the dresses, so he oughtta be ok. You on the other hand better shape up! No more tapioca in the CO's inbox or underwear on the flagpole - not unless you can blame Frank for it.  
I'm glad BJ seems to be working out, lack of philandering aside. I was worried you'd be stuck with some gung-ho rule follower but it sounds like he can get up to almost as much trouble as you. And it sounds like he's a good surgeon, so you'll hopefully have two semi-competents under your tyrannical rule soon. If you can get Frank swapped out you'll really be in business. It is funny reading about how green he is, though; I feel like I've been through the same thing in reverse. I've had to unlearn all the meatball surgery and go back to what I learned during residency. But surgery has changed a lot while we were busy running GI bowel, so BJ probably has a few tricks up his sleeve that are worth learning.  
I'm still getting used to being back home. It feels like everything has changed. Some of it's good - I'm so proud of how my girls have grown up! - but some of it's pretty lousy. It feels like I don't really know anyone. The 4077 was a family, and as much as I hated some of them, I miss being so close to people. We practically lived inside each other's pockets and now it feels like there's this huge gulf between me and everyone else. Even Louise. I know we weren't ever the most loving of couples, but now it feels like we're practically strangers. I'm lonely in a way I haven't been in a long time. About a year and a half if I'm honest. So I guess that's my way of saying I miss you and I'm glad you wrote me.  
Always gonna be your friend,  
Trapper_

Again, writing to Hawkeye reveals things to Trapper he hadn't even known were there. He is lonely. Not necessarily for physical interaction, but to be known, to be as fundamentally understood as he had been with Hawkeye. He and Hawkeye had spent so long leaning on each other, had been so intimate - and not just like _that_ \- that Trapper feels off balance now that he's gone. He wonders if Louise felt like that when he left. If she feels like that now that he's back.


	8. Chapter 8

Louise has started going out some nights and he's pretty sure she's found a lover. Trapper can't blame her, he did enough sleeping around in Korea to make any sort of claim to her fidelity a fucking joke. And anyway he goes out some nights too. One of the guys he boxes with had introduced him to a bar like the ones he and Hawkeye used to frequent in Tokyo. And it's nice to have someplace to sit and have a beer. To have a friend to drink that beer with. To be able to dance and flirt with other guys the way he'd been able to with Hawkeye. And it's not really the same at all - there's no deep connection there, and no real desire for any of these men - but it's nice anyway. Makes Trapper feel less lonely and less alone.

One night, when Louise is out on the town and Trapper is home and the kids are in bed, he turns on the TV and there's Hawkeye. He's grayer and gaunter, but it's him. The interview is part of some news series about the Korean war, and this spot is apparently focused on the 4077. So he gets to see Radar and Klinger and good old Ferret Face. And he even gets to put faces to the new guys he's heard about from Hawkeye. The fresh faced BJ Hunnicutt who coulda walked out of a Norman Rockwell scene and the curmudgeonly new CO.

Something in him is soothed to see them all, to hear their voices again, to experience their senses of humor. He laughs at the jokes and keeps a solemn silence during the serious answers and drinks in the familiarity of all their faces. And it's almost like being back in Korea with them. But Hawkeye's jokes don't land the same way they used to. There's a knife's edge of anger there, more pronounced than it had been, but mostly he just sounds so defeated. And when Hawkeye says he hasn't had a sense of moral for six months, the six months since Trapper left, that about breaks Trapper's heart.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
I saw your interview on the TV last night. Guess now you're famed in song, story, and news broadcast. It was real nice to see all the 4077 inmates again. Obviously a lot's changed since I've been gone. Two new people - and Radar even looks old enough to shave now. I am disappointed that they didn't let Klinger wear any of his outfits but I spose the folks at home wouldn't understand. Also kinda surprised they didn't interview any of the nurses. Hotlips always has something to say and I can't believe she woulda butted out of her own free will.  
Potter seems like a decent guy. More compassionate than I woulda expected from an army doctor. BJ almost feels like the opposite of me. Kinda innocent, like he hasn't been through the real bad shit yet. And a real family man. I can see why you haven't inducted him into the pervert's club. I hope he leaves close to the same as he came in. I hope you all do.  
I know I haven't. Hearing you talk about the terror that comes in the middle of the night when it gets quiet and you're not quite sure if you're alive, I just wanted to say that hasn't gone away. Even back home, where it's safe, I still feel it. You know me and Louise ain't really been together since I got back. We don't even sleep in the same bed, the same room, anymore. And now when I wake up to the silence in the middle of the night, it's harder than ever to know I'm still alive. You're not just on the other side of the tent from me anymore. I can't listen for your breathing to know that I ain't all alone in the dark, to know that there's still a world outside the room. It's strange. The terror doesn't go away, but I'm sleeping through the night more and that's something.  
Sorry this ain't a more uplifting letter but I guess I don't got much moral right now either. I miss you and I can't wait for you to talk my ear off in person. Say hi to everyone for me.  
Your friend,  
Trapper_


	9. Chapter 9

Trapper gets a kinda funny letter from Hawkeye. Funny strange not funny haha. Usually, his letters are a patchwork of zany stories and bloody horror. But this one's about fidelity of all things. Specifically, BJ's fidelity. Apparently he'd slept with a nurse and is feeling real cut up about it. And so Hawkeye is waxing philosophical about his own stance on fidelity.

Trapper hasn't thought much about his Korean affairs. Well not the ones with anyone who isn't Hawkeye. And sure he'd thought about making a pass at some of the ER nurses but it hadn't felt right. What he'd done in Korea had been a way to keep the war at bay. A way to feel _something_ after he'd shut off all emotions in order to work on putting soldiers back together for twenty straight hours. And he just hasn't had the same need back home. He's been able to stay present in himself, excepting a few times when Korea has come creeping in to overlay Boston, so he doesn't need the help of a warm body next to his to know that he has one too.

But now Hawkeye's got him thinking about it. Hawk'd told BJ to keep the affair a secret from his wife to save their marriage. That it'd been a mistake, a moment of weakness that shouldn't define the rest of his life. Trapper'd laughed at that. He'd committed adultery over and over again and it wasn't an accident. It was a choice he'd made. And Trapper was a much more roll with the punches, and tumble into bed, kinda guy than BJ. BJ knew what he was doing. Hence the guilt, Trapper guessed. And Hawkeye'd been worried that if BJ didn't have a home to go back to, he wouldn't work so hard to stay alive and sane over in Korea so he told BJ to keep mum. Well Trapper had a wife and family to go back to, but that didn't mean everything was picture perfect. Hell, he and Louise'd probably be better off if she'd found out about the affairs and gotten a divorce.

  


Louise comes home to a dark and quiet house. There's a bowl of peach cobbler waiting for her on the table - John's been getting better at cooking since she started skipping dinners at home and has apparently added baking to his repertoire - along with a note.  
_Dear Louise,_  
At least he'd remembered the Dear this time. And probably hasn't gone tearing off to Maine after Hawkeye's ghost. He wouldn't leave the kids all alone. 

_Dear Louise,  
I know that you aren't happy in our marriage. To be honest, neither am I. I know we got married because we both wanted the same kind of future, wanted a family. And the girls are still the best thing to ever happen to me._

It's true that she and John hadn't exactly been soul mates, not that Louise believes in that crap. But they'd gotten along well and both wanted to start a family and he'd had good prospects as a doctor. Her parents had grudgingly approved of the match even though he was _Catholic._ He'd gone to Dartmouth and been captain of the football team. And he'd been terrific in the sack, though she hadn't told her parents about that part. But they'd both changed. Grown into different people. She'd found out a lot about herself, interests outside of being a wife and a mother. Meanwhile John had lost something of himself in Korea. And the next line of his letter showed that John knew that as well as she did.

_But we're different people now and I think we want different things for ourselves. Mostly, I want you to be happy, and for me to be happy too. I don't think this is the way for either of us to be happy. And I don't think it's fair to the girls for them to live with parents who can't even tolerate being in the same room as each other. I don't know for sure if you've got another fella but if you do, I don't blame you. I ain't been much of a husband, being gone for over a year and absent for longer than that.  
I did a fair amount of sleeping around in Korea and I'm sorry for not being honest about that. I ain't done it since but that don't make up for me doing it in the first place._

Louise had suspected that he'd slept around. He's such a flirt to any woman they run into, she'd honestly thought that he'd continued sleeping around after Korea. It's not really a relief to know she was wrong. But it's in the past and she can't change it. She wants to be upset, but he's right; she has a new fella and she hasn't been shy about meeting with him.

_If you want a divorce, and I think it might be best for everyone involved, you can tell the lawyers you found out about my affairs to explain it. Your business is your business and I won't ask about it. I'll keep supporting you and the kids until you can tie the knot again, if that's even what you want. I know that things ain't easy between us but I hope we can talk this through, plan it out so the kids are taken care of._  
_I love you and always will, even if it ain't as a husband,  
John_

Louise wants to rant and rail. She's not a failure. They don't need a divorce. But the truth is, their marriage is failing. They all deserve better than to cling to the wreckage just to save face. And Louise appreciates that John is giving her an out. He will be the one at fault so that she can move on, marry her new beau and raise the children, without the stain of divorce coloring the rest of her life. Most husbands probably wouldn't be so understanding of their wife's affair, even as they were conducting their own. But that understanding also pisses her off. She waited. She was faithful to the memory of her husband for an entire year and a half. How long had he lasted against temptation? And she notices that John only apologizes for not telling her about the affairs, not for having them in the first place.

But the children are the important thing. They deserve parents who can make decisions together. They deserve a father who will be home every night for dinner. Who will be home in time to put them to bed every night. Who won't be called away for an emergency shift that lasts three days. Her relationship with Robert may not have the passion and intensity of those first few heady years with John, but he works nine to five as a city clerk, and he's up for promotion soon, and he offers a stability that Louise realizes she desperately wants.

Louise does something she hasn't done in a long time. She looks in on her husband, sleeping in the guestroom. They can work this out. For the kids and for themselves, they can make a new start.


	10. Chapter 10

With Louise agreeing to file for divorce, she's actually started talking to him again. It's funny. All it took was admitting their marriage was a sham for them to start acting like partners again. They're united in the common goal of splitting up. That's not to say they're around each other all the time, but they've spent several evenings planning through how they'll handle the kids and the house and everything. They want Louise to come at the lawyer with a plan they can both agree to, keep all the disagreement just between the two of them. And Trapper knows his work schedule won't allow him to keep the kids - he and Louise have agreed to him getting them every other weekend - so he's spent every spare moment he can with Becky and Cathy. So Trapper's home a lot more evenings, and so's Louise, and they've fallen into a kinda truce - like the peace talks, only this has a foreseeable and mutually desired endpoint. And less macho posturing.

Hawkeye has been a real help through all of this. Not that Trapper's told him yet. He wants the dust to be settled before he says anything. Louise obviously has no such concerns, cuz Trapper's received several very nasty letters from her parents. But Hawkeye's written about all the goings on at the 4077 and writing back has given Trapper something to do during the long evenings he and Louise have spent in silence on opposite sides of the couch. Maybe Trapper'll write one now.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
What, you think all us guys from Boston know each other? It's not Crabapple Cove. There's more than fifty people live here. But yeah, I did know a Dr. Charles Winchester. He was at Mass Gen when I did my residency. Liked that I went to Dartmouth, hated that I was from South Boston, and was a pretty great technical surgeon. It's hard to imagine him doing meatball surgery, though. It used to take him a half hour just to scrub. And he sure was a pompous windbag. I dunno if it's an upper-crust Boston thing, but lotsa the docs I work with are the same way. Like the patients don't hardly matter compared to the docs' egos. Like they all went into medicine for the prestige insteada cuz they cared about people. And they all try and show off in the OR. So I guess I'd watch that Winchester don't lose a kid to some unnecessary fancy cutting.  
At least Frank's gone. Patients everywhere but Indiana rejoice. Shame about how he went, though. I always hated the guy but he was just so pathetic ya know? None of us shoulda been there but he shouldn'ta been there more than most. Hotlips was about the only thing keeping him semi-sane I guess and when she was gone he didn't have nothin to fall back on. No other friends.  
It makes me kinda scared for you Hawk, not gonna lie. You're not Frank and you got friends and you ain't got a Hotlips, as far as I can tell from your letters, but you always put so much pressure on yourself to keep everyone afloat. Make sure you got something to lean on yourself. I hope my letters help shore you up, even a little. Yours sure do for me.  
Your friend,  
Trapper_


	11. Chapter 11

Hawkeye's fallen in love with some Korean lady. A countess, even if all she has to her name now is bomb craters. Hawkeye'd always joked that he was meant for the finer things in life. And it's not like that little crush he had on Erica Johnson either. And maybe not even like what he'd had with Carlye. It almost seemed to Trapper, from Hawk's letter anyway, that Hawkeye'd wanted to marry Carlye not because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but because he was afraid he was running out of time and options. Like he was succumbing to the pressure to have a wife and kids and she was the first available target he knew from outside Korea he could throw himself at. But as much as he'd loved her, or thought he did, he couldn't make himself actually commit to anything. But this thing with Kyung Soon seemed like the real deal. Hawk'd wanted to spend the rest of his life with the lady - or at least the rest of the war. Trapper couldn't really picture her being content as a housewife and mother in Crabapple Cove, not when she worked so hard and gave up so much for her people in Korea. And Hawkeye wanted so badly to go home. But it hadn't worked out anyway. She'd had to move on and so did Hawkeye.

Trapper is genuinely sad for Hawkeye. Kyung Soon was all he talked about in his last letter and he's clearly real busted up about how things ended. But Trapper can't help wondering where Hawk's sudden desire for, well prolly not marriage, but partnership with this woman had come from. After all, Hawkeye was the guy so scared of commitment he told three nurses he was married just to get out of having to call on them during peacetime. And now he was practically knitting booties and picking out baby names. Had to be that BJ Hunnicutt's corrupting influence. And he and Hawkeye were supposed to be the corrupting ones.

Still, what do you say to your friend in the face of that kinda loss? Trapper's been staring at a piece of paper with the words _Dear Hawkeye_ written on it, and nothing else, for hours.


	12. Chapter 12

Trapper can't shake Hawkeye's last letter, the one about Kyung Soon. Maybe it's cuz his own relationship with Louise is officially ending. She'd gone to the lawyer's office this morning to file for divorce. It's been a long time coming and he knew about it, helped her plan it out, but having the papers filed makes it real in a way it wasn't before. Or maybe Trapper's just feeling down.

He's real tempted to head to the bar and drink till he can't feel anything - same as Hawk's prolly doing half a world away. But it's no fun drinking alone and the way he's feeling right now, he probably wouldn't stop in time to be any good in surgery tomorrow. Post-Korea, Trapper found he just couldn't handle doing surgery buzzed or hung over. In Korea, he was always buzzed or hung over. It made him wonder what the hell had been wrong with him over there - how the hell he'd never killed anyone with a second of inattention or a stupid mistake. Trapper'd been glad he'd never got the shakes, coming back. Like it's proof he never actually became an alcoholic. A point of pride that Korea never got to him like that. No, it just got to him in about a million other ways.

Every good thing over there got torn away by the war. Even good things over here, like his wife and his kids, were casualties of the war. And it'd maybe have been easier if there were no good things at all so they couldn't get ripped away. But that prolly would've made him leave Korea in a rubber truck like Frank Burns. And anyway, he can't make himself regret meeting Hawkeye - the source of all the best parts of Trapper's little Korean vacation - no matter how much it hurt to leave him behind. And now his friend is hurting and the least he can do is reach out, even if it's through a letter rather than physically like he wants to.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
I'm sorry to hear how things turned out for you and Kyung Soon. She sounded like a great girl - kind and strong and with a sense of justice to rival yours. I'm glad you had a chance to know her. And even though you say things wouldn'ta worked out anyway, it still hurts to have that certainty that things are over. To know you can't go back.  
You know I've always been better at living in the moment, not as introspective as you I guess, but recently I've been thinking more about the future. About what I want and about what makes me happy. And I guess that a lot of the things I got told would make me happy really didn't. But there are things that do and they're worth holding on to, even if they ain't perfect. So I'm glad you had something nice with Kyung Soon, even if it couldn't last. It's kinda like an Irish wake, I guess. You mourn the loss but celebrate the life. Maybe that's what we all gotta do. And it sounds like there's a lot to celebrate with Kyung Soon.  
Sorry for writing such a soppy letter - I ain't even been drinking - and I'm sorry for taking so long to write it. I got your letter last week and just couldn't figure out how to say what I mean. You know I've always been better at actions than words. So I'll just raise a glass to what was and mourn what coulda been.  
Your friend,  
Trapper_


	13. Chapter 13

Trapper wakes up to a silent, empty house. With divorce proceedings officially under way, Louise and the girls are at Robert's place for the weekend. Trapper supposes he better get used to mornings like this. But it's strange how big and quiet the place feels with only him in it. He's spent all his life in noisy, crowded homes - first a small apartment with his parents and three siblings, then dorm rooms and residency digs, then a one bedroom with Louise, a three bed with Louise and two small children, a tent in Korea with two or three other guys. At any point during those years, he woulda killed for a day of peace and quiet - especially if the target was Frank Burns. But now it feels weird; like Trapper isn't really here in the house. Like it's a dream and he'll wake up back in Korea, look across the tent and see Hawkeye. God he wants that to be true.

Trapper makes himself a cup of coffee hot enough to scald and that helps a little. He can feel the heat of the mug, the chip in the handle, and that proves he's awake and alive and in Boston. He goes out to the front stoop to get the paper and that helps even more. He can feel the sun on his face, hear the sounds of traffic, and he stops to talk to Mrs. O'Grady next door and the conversation is so mundane that it has to be real. Either that or his psyche is more warped than he thought. But Trapper's not a shrink like Sidney so he will studiously ignore that possibility.

The front page blares the Korean war - sorry, Police Action - how well we're doing over there, how we're saving the South Koreans from the red menace, how Brave American Heroes are Fighting the Good Fight. Written by someone who's never been anywhere close to the front, never stood in the mud and the blood, never had to look at a too-young kid ripped apart by shrapnel. Written by someone parroting the generals' perceptions of the war from the rear echelon. Trapper hates them all, from the generals to the reporter to the paper boy. But mostly he hates that victory will be assured any day now for _over two years_ and the war still isn't over. Hawkeye still isn't home.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
I woke up this morning feeling kinda nostalgic for Korea, if you can believe that. I know all I ever thought about over there was making it all go away - with booze, with women, with practical jokes._  
With you, he wants to write.  
_But now that I'm home, I can't seem to let it go._  
Can't seem to let Hawkeye go. And Trapper's not sure that he wants to.  
_I used to complain about the noise in Korea. The artillery, the fighter jets flying overhead. And it's not like Boston's quiet. But I'll be walking down the street and it'll feel like something's missing and then I'll realize it's that no one's trying to kill me. Strange what you can get used to. Like all those kids I patched together in OR. I used to wake up in a cold sweat more nights than not, the feel of blood still on my hands. And I still dream about Korea, but it's not as sharp. It'll just be impressions of olive drab and the smell of antiseptic over old blood. And I wake up and I'm not sure where I am. Half in Korea and half in Boston.  
If I'm away from the war long enough, maybe the dreams will go away completely. But I'm worried that I'll lose the good memories too._  
Trapper's worried he'll lose Hawkeye.  
_And there's plenty of good memories. Most of them involving the jokes we played, the brass we cheesed off._  
The nights they spent together.  
_I guess what I'm saying is you better not be a stranger when you get back. Maine and Boston ain't so far away from each other._  
Please, God, don't let him and Hawkeye drift apart.  
_Your friend,  
Trapper_

It's a pretty sentimental letter, especially from Trapper. Most of the ones he sends tell funny stories about his girls or the hospital or respond to what Hawkeye writes about the goings on at the 4077. But everything in Trapper's life is changing - some for the better, some for the worse, like a parody of his marriage vows. So he's clinging to the familiar, the comforting. And no-one has comforted him like Hawkeye.


	14. Chapter 14

The lawyer has come through and it's official. He and Louise are divorced. She and the kids have moved in with Robert permanently - minus the weekends he gets the girls - and they have a wedding date set at the courthouse. Trapper's kinda relieved that it's over, finally, but he's a whole bunch of other emotions too - all tangled up in his chest and impossible to tell apart. So he doesn't really try. He just lines up his first double header in over a year - two nurses from the hospital who've been flirting back pretty strongly but are clearly not looking for forever. And he leaves enough time between dates to take the first girl back to his house and they fuck in his former marriage bed and it doesn't hurt the way Trapper thought it might. It feels good to be inside her, to bury his face between her legs, to make her scream. Trapper's always been more physical than philosophical, he's not Hawkeye. And here, with her, there's no room for anything else in his head or heart but pleasure. And they part on amicable terms, with the understanding that this was a one time deal, so he repeats the process with his second date. She mostly just wants to neck on the couch, and that's nice too. Slow and warm like molasses. And then things get more heated and he's got his fingers in her, his other hand up her blouse. And she returns the favor with a pretty good handy and then leaves. So by the time he gets to the queer bar, he knows he's not gonna be able to get it up again. Trapper's been too old for triple headers for a while now. But he can kneel in the back alley and take a cock down his throat, get a hand pulling at his curls just tightly enough, have a pelvis pressed against his face firmly enough that he doesn't have think about anything, including breathing.

He sleeps soundly in his empty house - in the guestroom still. He'll probably move into the master bedroom again at some point but it still doesn't feel quite right. And he wakes up refreshed and feeling lighter than he has since this whole divorce thing got started. And maybe he'll feel weird about it again, but he'll deal with that in the future. For now, he needs to get ready for work. And it's a good day. Everything runs smoothly in OR and there's no lingering awkwardness between him and his dates. Trapper's glad about that - sometimes in Korea, no matter that everyone involved had agreed that it was just for a good time, there'd be feelings and it'd take a couple days for things to get back to normal in OR. But everything's business as usual and Trapper's cheerful all evening. Cheerful enough to write Hawkeye about what's happened between him and Louise. He'd written a little about them not getting along so good, but he hasn't had the guts to tell him everything. Had wanted to wait until things were finalized. Partly to avoid worrying Hawkeye unnecessarily - he would think things to death and make himself crazy in the process - and partly cuz Trapper wasn't, and still isn't, quite sure how he feels about things. But he doesn't know that he'll be any more sure in a week or a month so.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
I'm glad to hear that BJ's arm is all fixed up. I'd hate for you to haveta break in another new cutter so soon. And after they sent you Charles, who knows what kinda guy they'd send next. As for that specialist, he sounds like a real jerk. I dunno if it's a specialist thing or if we just got so used to how things worked at a MASH. But I got sent to a medical conference by the hospital and some of the guys there were so full of themselves I couldn't believe it. It was like they thought they were Hippocrates and Jesus Christ all rolled into one. Comes of not having so many kids die on your table maybe. Or maybe just having a full staff of underlings to stroke your ego all the time. I dunno what the hell you're gonna do when you get back. That Captain really got your back up and that's with you as chief surgeon. It's gonna be a lot worse with you at the bottom of the totem pole. So maybe get used to sucking up to untalented old farts like you're back in residency again. I-Corp's got plenty to go around if you need practice.  
In your last letter, you asked after my family. Cathy and Becky are both good. Becky was in the school talent show and did a real impressive ballroom dance routine with some guy in her class. I guess the nuns have eased up on the no fun allowed rule since I attended St. Brigid. And they're both glad the semester's half over and looking forward to summer vacation. I dunno if I told you this but we went up to Maine last summer - after hearing so much about the splendors of Crabapple Cove, I wanted to see it in person - and the girls really loved it. I'm planning on taking them again this summer. If the peace talks actually keep moving forward, maybe you'll be there too.  
As for Louise, you know that things between us ain't been so good since I got back. And a lotta that's my fault for not really knowing how to get to know her all over again. But she decided enough was enough and found another fella. And I can't begrudge her that, not after all the sleeping around I did in Korea. And not really being a good husband to her after I got home. Or before, if I'm being completely honest. So I told her about the nurses and said if she wanted to file for divorce she should. Well, she wanted to and she did and now we're officially divorced. And I guess I'm not too sure how to feel about it yet, or if I ever will. You know I'm not that introspective of a guy. But her new husband-to-be seems like a stand up guy and I know he'll take good care of the girls and I can't really ask for more than that. And Louise is happy, which is what she deserves. And I'm hoping that I can be happy too, if that's not too selfish a thought.  
I think being in Korea kinda changed how I think about a lotta things. So much of civilian life is dictated by what's normal and I spent a long time trying to pull myself outta being just another nothing kid from South Boston. I went to an Ivy League college - even if it was on a football scholarship. I became a surgeon in part because it was a respectable and high paying career. I married cuz I was sposed to want a wife and a family - and I love my kids to death I really do, but Louise and I were more of a marriage of convenience than anything else. I spent all that time trying to be what I was sposedta want to be. And then I got sent to Korea and none of that mattered anymore. Well not to anyone who wasn't Frank Burns or Margaret Houlihan. Though it sounds like she's had her own trials with marriage and the American Dream. But in the face of a bunch of dying kids, I guess I started to think about what was really important to me. And it wasn't my wife. It wasn't a lotta the trappings of patriotism and Norman Rockwell I got told to want. And going home again, all that stuff just looks hollow I guess.  
In some ways, I wish I'da never met you. You made me think about stuff in a way I never hadta before. And once I started thinking about that stuff, I couldn't stop. If I'da never been your friend in Korea I probably coulda gone back home to my kids and my strained relationship with my wife and maybe a nurse on the side and my golf game and never really thought about what I actually wanted out of life. But I am your friend and I am thinking about this stuff. So I dunno if I'll ever wind up married again. Maybe I'll end up a confirmed bachelor in a boarding house in the South End. And maybe I'll even wind up happy, whatever that looks like. I hope the war ends soon and you can come home and wind up happy too, however that looks for you.  
Your friend,  
Trapper_


	15. Chapter 15

All the newspapers are saying the Korean war oughtta end any day now. Of course, they've been saying that off and on for the entire year and a half he's been back so Trapper figures they ain't worth much more than the wood pulp they're printed on. Though all of Hawkeye's latest letters have been more full of blood and horror than usual, and that might indicate the kinda last-ditch grab for territory that usually precedes a truce. Whether it'll be a lasting one is anybody's guess. It's been three years going on forever since the war started and the occasion had been marked by televised speeches and handshakes and back slapping all round Washington. Trapper had marked the occasion by toasting all the people still stuck over there at the 4077 and praying that he won't have to do the same next year.

Hawkeye's last letter had mentioned burying a time capsule - based offa one they're burying in LA, apparently - full of stuff to commemorate the 4077's stay in Korea. If the war ain't still going in a hundred years and there's still people living along the 38th parallel, some Korean farmer will probably find it and wonder what the hell it all means. But it kinda gets Trapper thinking about what he'd leave behind in Korea. You know, besides Hawkeye. When he first left, it woulda probably been something dumb like a golf club or a dirty picture - something to thumb his nose at the whole war. And he still thinks it's stupid and pointless, still thinks that the best thing the USA or Russia coulda left Korea with is fewer bomb craters. But he maybe has a different perspective now, having lived in his own personal aftermath of the war. While the US has been celebrating hollow victories, Trapper's been in mourning. For his family, for his conceptions of the world, for who he used to be. So maybe Charles was right to bury the Cognac. And if Trapper were there he'd bury a glass so that whoever found the time capsule could drink a toast to all that's been lost.

But Trapper thinks that the person he is now is maybe not so bad. He thinks about things more, tries to look at the truth of the world not just the shine and polish over everything. If he learned anything from the army, it was that the people in charge - whoever they may be - lied out their asses about everything. Before he'd gone to Korea, he'd hated the war and hated the army and hated the senseless violence. But he'd been upset by the stuff that'd effected him directly. He was separated from his family, life and career on hold. Hating the war had been incidental to hating being in the war. But then he experienced war firsthand. The senselessness and the futility. He had to patch up the kids torn apart by war just to have them sent out to get blown up again. He got hassled by all the pointless army rules and regulations that told him how to look and act and dress and be, all in the name of freedom and democracy. And then he went home. And it was like Korea was superimposed over Boston. All the bigotry and stupidity he'd fought in the war was back home too. And once he'd started to see it, he couldn't look away. Trapper had traded olive drab and khaki for a three-piece pinstripe, traded a tent for a rowhouse, traded army regs for the unspoken rules of patriotism and apple pie. But it's all the same thing. And now that Trapper can see it, he can fight it. In small ways, maybe, but he won't give up the war against the war just cuz he's home.

And in large part, he has Hawkeye to thank for who he's become. Before Hawkeye Pierce had shown up at the 4077, it'd just been him and Frank Burns in the Swamp - which hadn't even been Christened yet. And Trapper's an easy going guy, generally speaking. He'd learned to kinda fade into the background around people who woulda maybe had a problem with him - and could make problems for him - if they noticed his working class Irish existence since back in Undergrad. So he kept to himself and he and Frank got along ok for the first couple weeks, even if he didn't like the guy. And then Hawkeye showed up. Hawkeye who was everything Frank Burns hated, wrapped up in one lanky, loudmouthed package. Too fey, too wild, too caring and compassionate to fit into Frank's view of the world. And Hawk'd refused to be quiet, couldn't have faded into the background even if he wanted to. And he was charming and magnetic enough to pull Trapper out of his shell - literally and figuratively - with shared stories about living in Boston, with a shared football game during a snowstorm in Maine, and with a shared desire to shut Frank Burns' snide mouth up for good. And then it was two against two, an even fight. Cuz Trapper would take Hawkeye's side against Hot Lips and Ferret Face just on principle. But eventually he got to know Hawkeye better and started believing in those principles too. So Trapper owes him a lot and figures he may as well say so.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
I dunno if I've ever told you this - and even if I have, you deserve to hear it again - but I'm really grateful for your friendship. I've been thinking about all the changes in my life, and the changes in myself, and your continued friendship - even from six thousand miles away - is a big part of why I am who I am now. And I've been told I'm a pretty stand up guy. So thanks.  
I hope the newspapers are finally right and you'll be home soon. I've got a guestroom with your name on it if you ever get tired of Maine.  
Your friend,  
Trapper_


	16. Chapter 16

The war is over. After three stinking years, the war is finally over. And Hawkeye is coming home.

Not right away - cuz the army is nothing if not cruel. No. According to the telegram he received this morning, just after seeing the celebratory newspaper headlines, Hawkeye's been sent home via ship. And a ship means two to four weeks from Seoul to San Francisco. Weeks of short arm inspections and penicillin prescriptions - can't have all those victorious GIs coming home to their wives and sweethearts with the clap after all. Weeks of yearning for home added to years of the same. It just isn't fair. Hawkeye was the first guy in and he'll be the last guy out from the remaining 4077 surgical staff. Trapper imagines he can hear the cussing from Boston.

About a week later, Trapper's glad Hawkeye's on the slow boat to Frisco. It gives him a chance to write Hawk back - and his latest letter is a doozy. Trapper's no stranger to the horrors of war - even the ones that happen off the battlefield - but to see a baby smothered to death and to feel responsible. He can't even begin to imagine what Hawk's going through. But it's obvious he's still messed up over it. Hell, he thinks Trapper won't want anything more to do with him and is apologizing for needing someone to lean on.

Trapper finds himself getting pretty mad at Sidney Freedman. The man's a friend and a good psychiatrist. Definitely better than the ones Trapper's heard about - gone to lectures from - who just lock you up, treat you like an animal, for being different. Who talk about how to cut into the brain just right so that their "patients" will be, if not normal, at least quiet and complacent. What kinda healing is that? What kinda man could do that and call himself a doctor?

So Sidney's not like that. Trapper couldn't be friends with him if he was. But it's obvious to Trapper that Sidney hasn't really helped Hawkeye through this thing. Just got him functional enough to perform meatball surgery and then sent him right back into the meat grinder. More concerned that the war machine keep turning than about Hawkeye as an individual. And sure there's something to be said for getting back on the horse. But Hawkeye's very clearly been left to stew in guilt and self hatred, without anyone to help him. Well, if Hawkeye needs a beacon to guide himself home, Trapper will light the way, best he's able.

_Dear Hawkeye,  
Of course I'm still your friend, you big dummy. You can always lean on me, that ain't selfish at all. We all need a little help now and again and you've sure given me plenty over the years. I'm happy to return the favor. And I dunno if you wrote your dad about what happened yet, but I'm sure glad you wrote me. I know I can't understand how you're feeling exactly, but I got a few things I wanna say.  
First I guess, is that we're both surgeons and there's a certain kinda ego that comes along with that. We're responsible for life and death in the operating room. Gods, holding the fate of others in our hands. It can be easy to forget that we're not all powerful. That we're not fundamentally responsible for the lives and actions and fates of others.  
You didn't kill that baby.  
The mother made a choice. And maybe you influenced that choice - along with about a million other things in that situation - but at the end of the day, it was her choice to do that. To kill her own child. And I don't think you oughtta make that all about you.  
The second thing I wanna say is, I don't know whether it was a good or bad decision. If it was the right decision. I can't judge that. But I will say that I'm glad you and everyone else on that bus made it out alive. And I wouldn't think you were a bad person for thinking so too.  
And I guess the last thing I wanna say is that if you wanna talk - or not talk - I'm here. I'll listen to anything you gotta say, no judgement. Or I'll sit there in silence with you. But you ain't alone. I'm real glad you're on your way home. Feel free to come visit me whenever you want. I wasn't kidding about the guest room.  
I've really missed you. And as nice as these letters have been, I can't wait to see you in person.  
Your friend,  
Trapper_


End file.
